My December
by shattereddistruction
Summary: Evangeline Harris recounts her memories about her dead lover Luther Jones. placed in present and past. hope it's not to confusing. it made sence to me though... R


**My December-**

**

* * *

**

I woke up screaming that night. It was as if I knew and in a way I think I did. As I lay with my legs twisted in the sheets and my face covered with moisture that I could not distinguish between sweat or tears, my heart was beating so hard in my chest it was like a drum beat in my ears.

* * *

Walking through a crowd, worrying about some new crisis, I wondered what it would feel like to escape from this horrid nightmare in which I was so carelessly thrown into, without being given a choice. The movement my body makes is pain filled, my heart is sore. My body is black and blue, and my heart is riddled with scars of varying ages and decay. But still I am standing. Walking past, I see happy faces and hear laughing voices. I bow my head, wishing to hear no more, hoping to disappear, wanting to melt away, to become one with the floor beneath me. No such luck.

* * *

My eyes were fixed on the phone in the darkness of my room and when the first shrill tones of its ringing echoed, my body convulsed and the moisture on my face was now washed away by fresh tears.

* * *

My bare foot steps onto something tiny and sharp. I gasp in pain, bending to remove the object. Further investigation, proclaims that it was a rusty way ward nail. I examined the wound; great… lets just hope it doesn't get infected. I look up when I hear a musical voice say my name. Straightening, I take in the lean figure of a man around say roughly twenty-three. "Can I help you?" I quarried, wondering what on earth this strange man could want with me. He smiled slightly, "Evangeline, don't you remember me?" he asked, smile faltering slightly when I voiced no response. No truth be told, I don't. I shook my head, feeling sorry for the guy. He sighed, "They told me you wouldn't… it's me, Luther." I gasped again in surprise, "Luther Jones… is that really you?" I asked, my memory finally coming back to me. He nodded, pleased to see that I finally remembered him. "Yes, it's me" I smiled back. "Well, come, where were you heading?" I asked him. "To the Starbusks up on the corner," he replied. "Great, I was just heading there too!" I said, leading the way. "Wonderful."

* * *

A light clicked on, the ringing halted and beneath my door I could see shadows moving. Voices murmured but I did not need to distinguish them as these words had been running through my head as I slept.

* * *

"So, Evangeline, tell me, what have you been up to, this past year?" Luther asked.

"Oh, not much, just the usual, you know selling my story's to any publisher who's willing to take them..."I said, pausing as I took a sip of my coffee. "And what of you; last I heard you were making multimillions at the recording studio."

Luther laughed, "I was, yes, but the director was a jerk so we quit." He said referring to his band; My December. "We entered a battle of the bands contest; it's this up coming weekend. Um… Thursday I do believe."

"Really, Congratulations," I said with a huge grin on my face. He beamed at me,

* * *

Nightmarish premonitions where now repeated in my consciousness.

* * *

I looked at the clock and jumped in surprise, it was already "Im sorry, Luther, but I really do have to go… my boss is going to kill me if im late again." I said placing my hand on his, and giving him the warmest smile I could manage. "Maybe we can see each other again some time?" he nodded, returning my smile full blast. One could practically see the happiness leaking from him. "Alright, well I've gotta run, ciao!" and I headed out the building.

* * *

Paralyzed my body lay in the same position while my mind, which should have been going at a mile a minute, stood perfectly still as if frozen on one image. Two hands entwined.

* * *

I had just crossed the street, when I heard him calling after me. I turned around, to see him crossing the street. "You forgot this…" he said, holding up my leather portfolio. "Oh, thank you! I wonder how I could have forgotten this! Oh, my boss would have me sacked if I had lost it…." I said taking it from him. "Well thanks again, but I really do have to run now." I took a step forward, and with my luck, I stepped into a puddle. Curse the gods to all things damned! Luther stood laughing softly, "You know, Evangeline, you really should put some on shoes." And with that he walked off.

* * *

Silently my gaze moved to the shadows which now stood hesitatingly outside my door. The voices had stopped.

* * *

I sighed, silently cursing him with every name that I could think of, and making up some more as I went on my way to the art studio where I delivered the safely returned portfolio into my boss's waiting hand. "Alright, on the plus side, you weren't late this time. But now you can start sorting out these supplies." He barked and headed to his office, slamming the door shut. I snorted and went to do as he said.

* * *

I fell back into memories of earlier, happier times. The tears and nightmares dissolved away and I was left as what I truly was; A sixteen year old girl in love. But then the door pushed open.

* * *

About four hours later, I was running through the rain, on my way to my apartment, when an arm threw its self roughly around my throat, dragging me backwards. Another hand was clamped on my mouth, cutting off the scream which I was about to release. I bit my tongue, hard.

* * *

The emotion all came rushing back to me and like a physical impact it made all my muscles tighten and I curled into a ball with my back to the shadows which had transformed into my cousin.

I struggled to find my voice, to tell him not to say it. If he didn't say it, it wouldn't be true. I could wipe this night, this nightmare from my memory and then when I awoke from these terrible thoughts Id carry on as normal. Id walk again with my head held high.

Those two hands would be entwined once again. Never, would I have to feel this pain which was coursing through every pore of my body at this moment but my voice wouldn't come all that escaped were ragged gasps for air.

* * *

I stumbled slightly as the owner if the arm pulled me into an alley. "You make a sound, sweetheart, and it's off with your head, understand?" a rough voice barked. I nodded frantically; I really didn't want to part with my head.

* * *

But air was not what I needed right now. I needed him. I felt my father's weight upon the end of the bed.

* * *

"Now, I want you to-" my kidnapper started to say, but he was cut off by a dangerously low voice saying, "let her go." the attacker fell back with a startled 'Oof', releasing me in the process. I scrambled back away from the guy, only to hear a blood-curling scream merge itself with the dark stone hallway. It was only when my back made contact with the alley wall, that did I dear to look in their direction.

* * *

Did he assume I was asleep or did he somehow know that I already knew?

* * *

A man was there, kneeling over my assailant, a knife in hand. It took me a moment to figure out that my savior was none other than one Luther Jones. He stepped away from the body that lay on the grimy alley floor, and made his way towards me.

* * *

All that filled my ears was his rhythmic breathing, in and out, in and out. I focused on this sound and blocked everything else out.

* * *

"Evangeline, are you alright?" he asked me, his hand reaching out to rest on my shoulder as soon as he was within range.

* * *

Somehow still my whole body ached with pain and my mind ran fluidly over the past year. All the months, weeks, days, hours ran into one through my broken brain as my fathers steady breath continued.

* * *

I nodded, "yeah, Luther I– Im fine…" I said, tearing my eyes away from the dead body of my attacker. "I- is he- dead?" I whispered.

* * *

How must he be feeling, having to tell me?

* * *

Luther just turned his head in shame. "Yes…" he whispered; his voice almost inaudible. I reached up and placed my finger tips lightly on his cheek, turning his face towards me. Blue-grey eyes met violet. "Thank you…" I whispered. He nodded, "so, tell me, where you were heading? And walking barefoot in this heavy rain none the less, really Evangeline?" I gave him a sheepish grin, and ducked my head. He laughed softly as he swung one arm around my shoulders, and steered me out of the dank alley. "Come on, I'll walk you home." He said, "Now tell me, where exactly, do you live?"

* * *

I felt the air ripple as he reached out slowly and placed his hand on my arm. I flinched away from his contact. He was not the one I wanted to be near me now; his touch was not the familiar gentle yet steady caress which I had grown almost addicted to. My father tried again to make contact but I flattened my body away from him I wanted to scream when I felt his hand on me.

* * *

"Ah… the corner OF 107 N. Main…" I told him, as we started walking in that direction.

* * *

It drove me insane to feel someone else when I know I would never be held by the one person I wanted so badly it was the very reason for the excruciating pain in my chest.

* * *

"What's your apartment number?" I heard Luther ask me as I stepped under the overhanging roof of the apartment building.

* * *

He simply sighed, not understanding. No one would understand but if I was on the other side, neither would I. These emotions were so fierce and the situation was so tragic.

* * *

"Ah… its number 120" I said, as I wrung out my soaked hair. He punched in the number, the automat beeped, and he opened the door, holding it open for me.

* * *

Time was moving so slowly yet everything was going so fast. My father was building up, trying to make it easier for me, formulating the words in his brain as I lay; crying silently.

* * *

We walked inside my apartment. I laughed at Luther's awed expression.

"What?" I asked him.

"Nothing, it's just so beautiful." He said, as he took in the light crème walls, the table tops covered in black lace; the white candles, and the black and white photographs that lined my pale walls.

"Well, thank you… "I said as I watched him walk dazed towards my mothers' grand piano. "Do you play?" I asked him.

"Yes."

* * *

I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye, which was what hurt the most. If only id been prepared or been able to be there for those last few minutes with him. This was no story ending, there would be no reprise here, no cure for my pain apart from him. He was already out of my reach, gone.

* * *

The melody he played was of a haunting nature. It thrilled me to my very bones. I sat in awe next to Luther, watching as his long pale fingers flew expertly over the piano keys.

"That was written by me, two years ago, meant to play for the one person whom I love…" he said as he played the last chord.

"Luther, that was beautiful." I said, slightly flustered by what he had said. It was then, on the piano bench, that he kissed me lightly on the lips. I kissed him back softly, enjoying the feel of him. He licked my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I granted. His tongue slid inside, and he placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer. It was then that I pulled away.

"Im sorry, Luther, but I can't do this." I said as I got up off of the piano bench, and made my way towards the tall window. I saw Luther get up in the mirrors reflection. He walked over to me, and we stood side by side for a moment, both gazing out the window.

He was silent for a minute, but he then asked me, his voice quiet, demure. "Evangeline, tell me, why don't you ever let anybody in?"

* * *

My cousin stood and moved so he was kneeling next to my bed almost as if he was about to pray, but I knew all he was doing was preparing fro my angered tears and grieving cries. His lips moved with no words, at a loss for what to say.

* * *

"Because..." I replied, my eyes downcast, "these moments...as beautiful as they are...they're evil when they're gone." I looked at him with a sad look in my eyes. The expression I read in his eyes, took me aback. His eyes mirrored my own lonelyness, the same hurt and fear that I felt. It was terryfying, to say in the least.

"Luther," I whispered softly. And it was then, for the second time that he brought his lips onto mine. But only this time I didn't pull away.

* * *

Slowly, I turned my body so we were face and face and opened my tearful eyes to look into his. To show him I did not want to hear; to show him no words could make this easier; that was just wishful thinking.

* * *

"Evangeline, darling." He whispered, taking me in his arms. It was then, that night, in Luther's arms, that I lost my innocence. I woke up to the sun filtering through my curtained window. A pair of strong arms wrapped loosely around my waist. I looked over, and saw Luther sleeping peacefully on beside me on the bed.

I lay watching him, for the longest moment, and I blushed as he woke up. I was caught in the act. "Morning," he whispered hoarsely, smiling as he kissed me softly on the lips. I smiled into the kiss, and he pulled away, looking into my eyes, he said, "I'll never leave you." And with that he kissed me again. I kissed him back with everything I had in me.

* * *

But he avoided my eyes and his lips just carried on moving, no sound causing no pain. I wanted them to stay this way, telling me nothing. Yet again, he ignored my silent finally made eye contact and I saw the struggle in his own eyes.

* * *

You said, "I'll never leave you." You lied.

* * *

He reached out and held onto me but this time I did not move away. This time I felt safe, knowing I couldn't hurt myself if he had a hold on me.

* * *

A few months later, the papers announced the death of Luther Jones, the pianist in the famous rock band "Bittersweet December ". A beam had fallen, and he had been crushed on stage, at the end of the last show of their tour. The next day, a press release announced his death following an advanced state of leukemia no one had apparently known anything about. The band was about to launch their new album, in his memory. All the songs were already recorded.

* * *

Up to that point, Id wanted to rip the skin from my very bones just to express the pure pain I was experiencing. Finally, his lips began to move again but this time bringing words. At first, I blocked them out, focusing on the hands entwined but when the grip on me tightened, the image shattered and the words filtered through

* * *

I crouched at the foot of an armchair, refusing to make any comment on my relationship with the talented musician.

* * *

"Evangeline, Luther is dead", and I screamed out in an almost animal way as my heart shattered into a million pieces.

* * *

My cousin Julian, from the darkest corner of the room, whispered, "You knew, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And why didn't you tell me anything?"

Silence...

* * *

**Well, this is the sad story of Evangeline Harris and Luther Jones. Sorry if it was a bit confusing… it made sense to me… lol.**

**Well you know the drill…R&R!**

**JA ne!**

* * *


End file.
